Drabble Cycle round11 - Kinks
by Amazon Life
Summary: Collection of drabbles written for the drabble cycle on femslash100 (livejournal comm.), with the theme "kinks". A lot of smut, but some of these are also somewhat angsty. (the specific prompt for each drabble will be the chapter title)
1. Authority

She enters your study and crosses it to reach your desk in four long strides, and before you can even rise to greet her she has your wrists handcuffed to the arms of your chair.

"Emma, what a-"

You feel a hand clamping over your mouth, effectively silencing you. A jolt of electricity runs down your spine, and the look on her eyes does nothing to stop you from shivering in anticipation.

"It's 'Sheriff', and you only talk when I say you can."

You gulp hard, breaths coming fast through your nose, and nod slightly to show you understand. She smiles at you approvingly and uncovers your mouth, moving closer to straddle you.

"Now, what am I gonna do with you, huh? It'd be a shame to have such a hot little thing under my care and not take the chance to play with her..."

You're not allowed to talk, but moans aren't talking, and you can't stop the one that leaves your lips.


	2. Begging

You have her lying on your bed, sprawled, wrists and ankles tied on each corner – exactly where you want her. There's a thin layer of sweat on her skin, blonde hair sticking to her forehead and neck, a growing wet spot underneath her, and she's panting and trembling slightly – _almost_ exactly how you want her: she's not desperate enough just yet. That's something you have to fix.

So you bring your lips to her inner thighs, kissing and nibbling and licking your way from her knee up to her groin... and then move to do the same on the other thigh.

Every time you get close to where she wants your lips to be and move away instead, she whimpers in protest, but you don't relent; this is about what _you_ want, not about what she wants. And you're happy with what you're getting.

After what's at least the tenth time, you hear her mumbling something faintly, and it's hard to make out exactly what because she's so beyond words already, but it sounds like your name.

"Do you want to say something, dear?" She nods and tries to take deeper breaths, and you notice there are tears running down the sides of her face. She tries again, and it's still only a whisper, but you can understand it perfectly this time: "Please, Regina... please..."

 _Now_ she is exactly how you want her to be.


	3. Biting&bruising

You're lying down, for once not restrained – at least not physically. You were told not to move, though - "or you'll ruin my work, and I will not be happy" - so you try your best to stay put, even if you have no clue of what her "work" is. All you know is that it hurts – but not too much, and in a good way. Her teeth close around the skin of your thigh, pulling; you feel her sucking the skin into her mouth, then releasing it, and running her tongue along it to soothe the bruises that must be forming. She does that time and time again, but you can't imagine what her goal must be – besides making you moan and making your panties wet. You try peeking down, but all you see is her dark hair falling down, hiding most of her face and brushing your thigh lightly. You give up and throw your head back, allowing yourself to be immersed in the sensations.

She stops every now and then, raising herself enough to look down and see her "progress". When she's done, she straightens up, satisfied look and smug smile on her face. You look at your thigh and see... a heart. Made completely out of bite marks.

She wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer; you snuggle into her, head resting on her shoulder. "Do you know why I did that?" You shake your head "no". "Because you're mine. And because I love you."


	4. Breath

You know how to rile someone up using only your words; that's a skill you have mastered over the years, a weapon you've used more times than you can count. You know how to get people to feel exactly what you want them to feel, from anger to pain to embarrassment to arousal. So you've always thought of yourself as immune to that treatment.  
But nothing could have prepared you for this. To Emma Swan dressed all in leather, looking at you with eyes (and soul) as dark as they have ever been, walking up to you step by swaying step. Then leaning in, warm breath tickling your ear and jaw and making your own breath catch on your throat and making you shiver and your legs shake as she whispers to you.  
"Are you ready to entertain me tonight, Madam Mayor?"


	5. Clothing

It's mid-afternoon and you're working at the station with David – or more like you're filling paperwork and he's throwing a bounceball. So when the phone rings with a break-in call, you send him.

He hasn't been out for a full two minutes yet when Regina enters, tight dress, high heels, red lipstick, walking towards you like you're her prey – and you might as well be, from how easily she always has you in her hands whenever she wants.

You get up to greet her and soon find yourself pressed against your desk, her hips pushing into you and keeping you in place. She places one thigh between yours, making you moan at the contact and making her already short dress ride up. She grinds against you and you feel the heat coming from her on your leg even through your jeans. Her hand sneaks into them and under your panties as she leans in to whisper in your ear that she's not wearing any.

You bite your lip to hold back a whimper as her fingers start working on you, and you feel her hips moving faster against your thigh. She gets there first, but holds back until you're both cumming, using the desk as support when your knees fail.

She kisses you softly and walks away as swiftly as she had walked in. She leaves behind two wet spots on your jeans.


	6. Edging

She says she needs to stop thinking, stop her mind from working, keep all the thoughts that haunt her away. She comes to you for help; says you've dealt with darkness and know how to block it out. You try to come up with distractions, teach her your breathing routines, calming down techniques... but it doesn't work. The Dark One is stronger than anything you've had inside you, and it does not want to be silenced.  
She begs you, though; for help, for a few moments of peace inside her own mind, for rest. Seeing her cry out breaks your heart; so you try something else as a last resort. It isn't appropriate and it might make things even messier, but she doesn't object when you suggest it, so you tell yourself that this isn't sex; this is just a means to an end, a favor to someone who's given up on everything she had for you.  
You make her lie down and sneak one hand around her waist for comfort, and the other between her legs. You work her up little by little until she's at the very edge... then stop. She protests, but you tell her to trust you, you know what you're doing. You repeat that process incessantly, until her protests turn into pleas, pleas turn into whimpers, whimpers fade away and all she can do is stare at the ceiling. And you know, from her glossy eyes, that it worked: she's not thinking at all at.


	7. Mirrors

You've always been connected to each other; not only by the fact that her mother was once your stepdaughter, and the one because of whom your life was destroyed; not only by the fact that you ruined both their lives in return and forced them to be apart and her to grow without a family; not only by the fact that she is the mother of your son. You've always been connected by how you feel, by the loneliness and misunderstanding and rejection that you've experienced in your lives, by the fire within you both that just keeps burning against all odds, by the pain that you carry inside and that you can't seem to shake.  
So you understand her. You know how to reach her. You know what she needs – and you know how to give it to her.  
You make her face the mirror as you take her clothes off and wrap your arms around her from behind. You make her look at it, at her own reflection, as you make her cum again and again. You force her to see the way her body and her face react to your touch. That's how you remind her she's still human.  
She calls out your name, and you respond by whispering hers in her ear over and over and over until you're sure she understands. Until she knows she's still just Emma.


	8. Pain

AN: This drabble has Trigger Warnings for a quick, non-graphic reference to consensual violence, and for implied past child abuse. If either of those might upset you, please skip this one and go straight to the next drabble, okay? Take care and be safe.

* * *

She has anger issues now, and that can be dangerous when you're the Dark One. And it's your fault, it's because of you, so you have to help. You have to do something to make sure she doesn't destroy the whole town and everyone she loves in a fit of rage.  
So you let her take it out on you. You let her hurt you, however she wants. However she needs to, so her anger will go away and she'll function without hurting anyone else. Whether that's with words or cracking a whip on your back or anything else she wants to dish out.  
You take it, even though it hurts – and it always does. You tell yourself it's for her sake, that you owe it to her; and it's also for everyone else's sake, so they don't have to suffer. But deep down, you know there's more to it. There's a sense of comfort and nostalgia that keeps creeping up even though you try your best to push it back down every time, even though you fight it with all you have, even though you absolutely refuse to even acknowledge it.  
You ask yourself, over and over, why you accept that, why you willingly put yourself through that. You fight against yourself over the answer, because you don't want to admit it. But when the pain starts to overwhelm you and the endorphins kick in and you're soaring... it feels like home. It feels like childhood. However screwed up you know that is.


End file.
